HOW THE DRUMMER WAS DRUMMED.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1041, 9 December 1882, Page 3

HOW THE DRUMMER WAS DRUMMED.

Tl ie following tells how the drummer was drummed : —‘ Is this seat engaged ?’ lie ashed of the prettiest girl in the car, and finding it wasn’t, he put his saraplebox in the rack, and braced himself for solid employment. ‘Pleasant day,’ said the girl, coming for him before he could get his tongue nnkinked. ‘ Most bewildering day, isn’t it ?’ ‘ Ye-yes, miss,’ stammered the drummer. He was in the habit of playing pitcher in this kind of a match, and the position of catchet didn’t fit him as tight as his pantaloons. ‘ Nice weather for travelling,’ continued the girl ; ‘ much nicer than when it was

cold. Are you perfectly comfortable ?’ ‘Oh, yes, thanks,’ murmured the drummer. ‘ Glad of it,’ resumed the girl, cheerfully. ‘ 't ou don’t look so. Let me put my shawl under your head, won’t you?’ ‘ ISo, please,’ he muttered ; ‘ I—l’m doing well enough,’ ‘ Can’t I buy you some peanuts or a book ? Let me do something to make the trip happy. Suppose I slip ray arm around your waist? Just lean forward a trifle so that 1 can !’ ‘You’ll —you’ll have to excuse me !’ gasped the wretched drummer ; ‘ f—l don’t think you really mean it !’ ‘ You look so tired,’ she pleaded : ‘ wouldn’t you like to rest your head on my shoulder ? No one will notice. Just lay your head right down and I’ll tell you stories.’ ‘No—no, thanks! I won’t to-day. I’m very comfortable, thank you!’ and the drummer looked around hoplessly. ‘ Your scarf-pin is coming out. Let me fix it. There!’ and she arranged it deftly ; ‘ at the next station I’ll get you a cup of tea, and when we arrive at our destination you’ll let me call on you ?’ and she smiled an anxious prayer right up into his pallid countenance. ‘ I think I’ll go away and smoke,’ said the drummer, and hauling down his grip-sack he made for the door kneedeep in the grins showered around him by In's fellow passengers. ‘ Strange,’ murmured the girl to the lady in front of her, ‘ I only did with him just what he was making ready to do with me, and, big and strong as he is, he couldn’t stand it. I really think women have stronger stomachs than men, and 1 besides that there isn’t any smoking-car for them to fly to their refuge. I don’t understand this thing.’ But she nestled back contendedly all the same, and at a convention of drummers’ held in the smoker that morning, it was unanimously resolved that her seat was en - gaged, so far as they were concerned, for the balance of the season. —Chicago Times,